


Sober Symphony

by JoJoSanders413



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, fluff for once, logicality - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 04:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16033049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJoSanders413/pseuds/JoJoSanders413
Summary: Logan and Patton both have struggles they want to hide until they realize they can become stronger by acknowledging them.





	Sober Symphony

Logan looked down at the spread pages of his notebook and sighed. Brightly coloured inks met his gaze, shouting their presence and rising from the paper to pierce his eyes. He tried to rub the flashes of memories away but only made the pain sink deeper. He shut his eyes as he put the notebook back into his messenger bag, stood up, and rested the strap on his shoulder, firm and rough to the touch. He slipped between the desks without having to look up and made his way out the door and into the hallway without a sound or a second thought. A couple times another student would brush against him without stopping or he would be pushed back by the flow of the herd's retreat homeward but he continued on his path, never looking at anyone, and never stopping. He found his locker and ran his hand along the smooth metal, relishing the coldness it left tingling his fingertips. Hearing the sound of footsteps from behind him, he hurried on down the endlessly twisting hallways to the back door of the theatre. He knew that non-participants in the theatre program weren't supposed to be around during rehearsal time, but it was the only place that helped him focus and finish what he was supposed to do instead of leaving him stranded somewhere without a hope of escape. Voices started to rise from the stage and the area behind the curtains as Logan scaled the ladder to the catwalk and got himself situated to work and draw if he could. The colors followed him to the theatre, just as they did everywhere else, but he didn't have to pay attention to them and they didn't attack him. The tip of the black pen glided across the paper as he found his inspiration: "To be, or to be afraid."

Logan opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling of his bedroom. The darkness was always comforting for him, and he could feel the soft breeze of the ceiling fan against his cheek as he lay on his back. He took a moment to close his eyes and just breathe in the aura of the room: neat stacks of books, shoes unlaced and ready next to door, school bag packed, zipped shut, and ready for the next day. He felt restless, more so than usual, like an itch at the back of his brain that wouldn't go away. He turned onto his side, trying not to disturb Remy, his still soundly slumbering cat. As he settled down again, he could feel the moments ticking away until the sun would shine through his curtains and his alarm would start to play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata at a volume high enough to wake a bear. By then the colors would be back and they would be back in strength. It hurt him everyday, but Logan carried on like nothing was the matter, doing his work, keeping his grades up, not talking to anybody if he didn't have to...everything he'd always done. But he couldn't shake the anxiety that he wasn't trying to be his true self.

~~~

Patton tapped his pencil against his temple, bouncing his leg agitatedly under his desk as he tried to keep his mind locked on what was going on in front of him. He never meant to wander back to the darkness, but he found himself there more often than not, though he rarely remembered getting there. So to keep himself in reality, he doodled. He found a pen or highlighter or every colour he could possibly want to draw with, hoarding them like a dragon's gold. They were always in a deep blue drawstring bag in the outside pocket of his backpack, where he could reach them and feel them and feel better knowing they were there. The variety excited him more than almost anything else, simply thinking through the choices and possibilities help him focus his mind and let time slip by instead of slogging forward, each second an eon. As far as Patton was concerned, there was little worth devoting his full mental effort to, so it was alright to spend a bit on some pastimes that didn't count towards grades or life experience, right? That was what he liked to think and how he tried to act, at least. But nothing's perfect, and nothing goes exactly the way it's been planned. Patton's world wasn't perfect, and he didn't ask for it to be. He asked for hope, he asked for small acts of kindness, he asked for courage, and he asked for a friend.

Patton would smile, Patton would frown, he'd bite back denial, fight hard to hold it down. After all, that's not what he was supposed to do. He was around to sit and listen and smile and give advice on what to do. The one who gives the answers can never have questions. The one who says to smile can't have depression. Secrets locked with an iron key and an iron mask with no space for peace. So Patton smiled and Patton laughed and if anyone asked him that was that. He needed someone to talk to for real, but didn't know who, or what he might feel. He kept it shut up in the cage of his mind so if anyone said "how are you?" his answer was "fine."

~~~

Logan stared at his hands, through skin to bone beneath, and he thought back to his classrooms and tests and questions about being and living and everything happening without anyone having to think of it. Logan had always been alone and he was used to it, but he'd always dreamed of maybe having a best friend who he could ask the questions he was embarrassed to voice in public. "It's beautiful," he whispered, as his mind traveled to the skylines of ideas and arguments built up in a wall around his insecurities, "both something and nothing at all." Logan walked looking down, took notes looking up, but his attention was always on something unfocused. He fought through the pain of the flashing and grey and he let himself be jostled when everyone else hustled away. He knew how to avoid confrontation and change, and he was settled into his life in his little concrete bubble that allowed no hard questions, no too-large challenges, no fears, because he didn't know what he'd be without his studious demeanour. He was jolted out of his thoughts by a collision with somebody he'd never seen before, a boy who the colours ran away from. "I'm sorry!" he said, "My name's Patton, and yours?" "L-Logan," he stuttered, "I haven't seen you before..."

~~~

Logan and Patton stood face to face, hand to hand, eye to eye; Logan smiled and Patton frowned. Then one of them went to turn around. "Hey, uh, please wait!" Logan was startled at his outburst. Patton looked back at Logan and plastered on his typical talking to friends grin. "What's up?" he asked cheerily. Logan swallowed nervously before saying "I wanted to tell...you don't have to keep up a happy act all the time. It's- I'm- It's alright if you're not okay sometimes, nobody has to be cheerful for other people. I should- I should go." Logan flushed and turned to leave but Patton grabbed his wrist, fake smile completely gone. "How could you tell?" he whispered, "I've been hiding for so long." Logan shrugged. "I guess I've learned to read people. I've had to." Patton pulled Logan into a hug, squeezing the other boy tight against his body. Logan briefly froze in shock before putting his arms gently around Patton. They stood there for a moment, a few seconds, a minute, but nobody cared, just passed by without thinking. They were together now, friends forever now, somebody to call instead of home. Patton took Logan's hand. "How about we go away from this storm".

Two boys stood together under a tree in the rain. Neither had an umbrella or a raincoat that day. Both smiled without thinking, faces alight in the gloom, they had found outlets, a place to talk for real about everything they'd feel without realizing. It was nothing to either to be soaked to the skin, they were already drowned by their darkness within. But when they found each other came a spark in the dark, the abyss became lighter, the world not so stark. Logan's eyes and head didn't hurt when Patton was near, and Patton knew he could rely upon Logan to hear what he really meant, not just what he knew how to say. At sunset, their shadows met under the sky and pale peach and orange were just about to die when Patton turned to his friend and asked "Why do we have to stay here?" Logan thought hard, harder than he'd had to in years, and he started to laugh with near-hysteria, not pain. "I don't know!" he exclaimed, "Let's run away someplace!" Patton stared at Logan, lost in thought, wondering if what he saw was real, then he smiled, "Let's do it." and took to his heels.

Two men sit together on a couch in their home, Patton's head on Logan's shoulder and their hands entwined. Best friends can become constant companions in life, and Patton and Logan trusted each other in strife. Best friends become boyfriends become husbands, contented with each other's company and smile, their frowns and their tears. Patton spoke and Logan listened and Logan described and Patton would laugh in delight as they wrote their own story together, far from the pasts, from the ghosts that swallowed them whole when they were young and alone and afraid. Together they triumphed, and it was never the same.


End file.
